Odds and Ends
by Assassination
Summary: Sometimes they wondered how this all happened seeing as they were so alike and yet so different at the same time. [little stories for pure entertainment, done for fun, etc.etc.]
1. Understandings

**Freedom**

He stared out the window, watching a bird fly right on by. The sky was so blue, so welcoming. His hood down and revealing the soft brown strands he hid from the world constantly - well, back when he was in Masyaf.

Where there were guards roamed the streets and valleys, tormenting those who they deemed 'unworthy' of living happy lives. And that was what the Creed was made to protect, to save these poor souls and let them live without fear.

But then again, they also feared the Assassins. That seemed a bit ass backwards, didn't it?

Pushing to stand erect Altair reached out his hands, pressing the bottom of his palms to press against the wood to push the window up, reveal his presence to the world. To New York to be more specific. Although the air was polluted - a word he learned about after wandering about the building he was confined in, something about 'The world is becoming more and more polluted with each passing day -' and other things, finding out that it came from the TV when a young woman named Dana showed him it.

Now that one of the Mercers crossed his mind, the elder of the two managed to nab his attention while the brunet began to crawl the window.

Wondering what the other man did while he was gone, pondering if Alex even thought about how much he made his sister worry about him.

Grasping a slightly loosened brick he lowered himself down towards the ground.

Altair's hood whipped to the side as the wind attacked his figure, tightening his grasp slightly on the bricks, almost activating the mechanism within his left gauntlet and the blade springing out. Breathing out a soft huff he looked down.

It's not that he didn't appreciate what the two had done for him, he wasn't running away either.

He just hated being _confined_ like an animal.

Sure those 'Hunter' things were a problem but it couldn't be that hard to outrun such a beast... Though when he saw his first one he wasn't prepared for what it was since he had only a split second until the thing could have killed him.

About a week ago...

That's when he met the Mercers - actually, Dana. Poor girl was being picked on by a handful of men and the Assassin would not let it slide when they wouldn't leave her be.

Although that got him a smack upside the head and being yelled at in a language Altair just couldn't comprehend...

Feeling his right foot tap the ground the tanned male let go of the wall and turned slowly, hands moving to pull his hood up. Only to then see familiar ice blue spheres stare at him from a few feet away.

"..."

Could he blame him for wanting to stretch and wander about like the virus infested man had the freedom to do?

Seeing the other turn to look away had a soft smirk tug at his lips.

Alex understood.

**Soda**

Both males stared across the table at one another, more so at the glass between the two of them.

It contained a dark fluid, that was making strange 'fizzle' sounds, and there were bubbles riding up a hidden flow to the top, popping once they reached the top and tiny little droplets scattering about.

Golden hues darted up to the cold ones his companion had before looking back down at the cup.

After a few moments Alex reached a hand out, about to grab the object before a tanned hand reached it first and pulled it to the owner's side. Looking up with narrowed eyes the dark haired Mercer scowled whilst Altair took a sip.

Only to pull it away it a quick motion.

There had been a blast of flavor, and it tasted so..._sweet_, nothing like water - and he wasn't an idiot, he knew it wasn't water but still. Even the bitterness of coffee didn't have him have this much of a reaction.

What was _this?_

"...it's called 'soda.'" came the simple, blunt, to the point, explanation.

Oh, so that's what this was...

_Interesting._

**'colorful language'**

"Shit!"

A loud '_thump_' echoed about in the house, causing Altair to jerk his head up and stare up at the cieling where Dana's little 'research center' was. Pushing up to head up he peered around the corner to see that a certain leather wearing man was staring at the mouse he'd destroyed.

Oh, Dana was going to be furious that her friend's computer's mouse was broken. Though she could just use her laptop - well, _Alex's_ laptop. But that computer was for personal, fun-time, use.

"...dammit."

Stepping away from the wall Altair looked down on the electronic device. Poor thing was done for, dead, broken to the point of no return, kaputt. Just...no, it was done for.

"...that...will need to be replaced." he pointed out, motioning to it. Only to have Alex turn and glare at him like he was going to slaughter him any second now.

"No _shit_, Sherlock."

"That is not -"

"I know, dammit!"

Falling silent for a moment, yellow spheres simply observed while Alex slowly set down the broken mouse.

"...what does...'shit' mean?" Altair questioned simply then heard someone approach behind him and turned to see Dana standing there with a dumbfounded look.

Blue hues glanced between he and Alex before Dana simply frowned deeply. "What the fuck have you done to the computer, Alex?"

"...nothing."

"Bull_shit_!"

Apparently he would not find out what this word meant until this fight was over. _...damn._ Moving around the enraged woman the Assassin made his way back downstairs.


	2. Express

**Fireworks**

Altair jerked up from his position, having been laying down on the couch within the confines of the living room. Pressing his left hand into the cushion for leverage his golden hues darted from side to side. There the sound was again...

'_FWEEEEEE! ...BA-BOOM!_'

Though it sounded closer now that he was awake and so, as a natural reaction, he rolled off the sofa, tensing his left arm to have his hidden blade spring free from its sheath. Then came the echo of what his mind connected to a gunshot and slowly made his way to the side of the couch that was facing the door, poking his head out to get a look to see if his suspicions were correct.

No. No soldiers were storming up the stairs. But the door was wide open. _Why would Dana leave it open?_ Cocking his head slightly Altair placed his right hand on the wooden flooring then pushed himself up to stand, letting his left arm relax.

'_shink_' resounded about the area, indicating that he let his blade go back into its harmless position.

Slowly he made his way towards the entrance of the hideout, taking the stairs down to the ground-level. Not once encountering a guard but what had him ponder was why he still heard gunshots. Or were the sounds the cause of those things he saw advertised on TV?

Creeping over to the door and unlatching the locks he soon gripped the handle, turned it slowly, about to pull it open - next thing he knew a hand was pressed against it, slamming it shut. Hot breath ghosted down his neck and the Arabian tensed, his hidden blade springing out.

Turning and about to strike, the Assassin stopped immediately once he caught sight of sapphire.

"Alex..." he breathed out, rather relieved honestly. This meant that no one intruded inside the hideout, which also meant they didn't need to relocate.

First time that happened he and Alex were on recon and then came a tank that the elder Mercer had to destroy - in the end...it was basically Alex's fault since he was running with a 'Mega Soldier' or whatever after him and lead the damn thing to the first hideout.

Though Altair took the blame for that one, seeing as Alex had enough to deal with and didn't need any more added on with Dana yelling at him.

"It's best to see them on the roof."

"...what?" Raising a brow to this, rather surprised when Alex took hold of his arm and began to drag him back up the stairs and up to the roof. "What are you -"

Right when the door opened, revealing the velvety black skies - as dark as nine thirty at night could get - then a second later a bright light came and a design that looked like the shape of a flower formed in the sky.

Accompanied by that '_boom!_' sound.

Quickly Altair glanced about, taking a cautious step forth once he was released. Once again no soldier was around. And another flash of light came.

Seeing as Dana wasn't on high alert, and especially since Alex wasn't on edge, the tanned man relaxed.

Looking back up at the sky golden hues flashed to a bright shade then dimmed back to their normal tint from the bright lights. Soon a cluster of these 'sparkling fireflies' went off and made plenty of '_ba-boom_'s. At this point Altair was sitting at the edge of the roof, his hands placed between his parted legs. Dana returned with two cups of warm milk, since Alex denied the offer.

"Thank you." Taking the mug decorated with Eeyore he pressed the top to his lower lip, tipping the container and sipping. Lowering it a moment later he looked over his shoulder to see the woman offer him a soft smile. "...what are these things?"

"Fireworks."

Both glanced back to Alex, whom was sitting on the higher roof. "'Fireworks?'"

"...they're just a free show."

Adding that to the growing knowledge of this time frame Altair looked back over at the blossoming colors. "...they're nice."

"Ain't they? They're fucking awesome!" Dana exclaimed, spreading her arms out then laughing before bringing them back in and taking a sip from the mug.

"They shoot these off on the fourth, every year."

The Assassin glanced back at the virus and nodded. "A rare thing then?"

"...I guess you could say that."

**Night**

It concerned Dana when Alex suggested to go out for a walk. It frightened her when he looked over to a certain Assassin whom was fussing with the laptop, playing Solitaire, the look of what seemed like longing in her brother's blue eyes. It almost killed her when he added that he wanted to go to the _lake_, _alone_ with _Altair_...and Altair only.

She almost shouted out a protest but Altair had by this time shut the laptop, grabbed his hidden blade and left out the window piggybacking on Alex.

Now at the lake, walking down a path covered in blood and guts - which has stopped bothering him after a few outings and hearing that this was going to eventually become a common sight - with a few small conversations being shared.

An occasional offer to stop when the other looks uncomfortable. Then some looks being tossed the other's way after a while of silence, at time looking at the other at the same time then looking away to the opposite side.

"...any leads on Greene today?"

"None."

"Tomorrow is another day." Glancing over to his comrade Altair shrugged, something he'd picked up from the Mercers when they didn't care or whatever else it was used as a gesture for. "I could assist you, if you would not mind."

"No."

That was a failed offer, just like all the others. This was either because he was from the past and if he was killed it could violently alter time or because Alex saw him as a bother.

"I am not useless," he grumbled, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Only to then feel a hand grab his shoulder and turn him harshly, the other hand capturing his other shoulder to then slam his back against a tree. "Nnn!"

Gritting his teeth Altair glanced up, his head cocking back and glaring at the other. Rather taken aback from this action.

"What was that for?" the Assassin demanded then blinked once he noticed the other leaning in slowly. "...Alex?"

"I don't want you to help -"

"I think that was clearly sa-"

The look he received from just interrupting the other's explanation had the Arabian reluctantly shut his trap with furrowed brows, rather reluctant to hear as to why the other didn't want him to go with.

"As I said..." Breathing in he then releases it slowly. "...'I don't want your help.' Not because I think you'll get in the way but..."

Honey shaded hues widened as Alex leaned in, his breath ghosting over his lips. It tingled, yet felt so...it was oddly appealing how such a strong willed, rough, daring individual was being so timid at this point. So...

...so gentle.

Then the distance between their lips closed. A tingled spark flaring as the contact was officially established, the dark haired Mercer moving his hand behind Altair's head to pull him in to deepen the kiss, cocking his head to the side as both parted their lips.

Tongues tangled, teeth clashed and bit down on whatever was available to get a chance to outdo the other. Soft pants came from one side while the other simply kept a normal level of breathing.

Until Alex finally pulled back, looking at the other's slightly flushed face.

"...because I don't want them -"

Swallowing he then let a soft smile broke the mask upon his face. "I understand."


	3. Last Sight

**Assassination's note: **As much as I wanted to avoid posting this up (this little one-shot was written on Nov.29th), I felt that this _really_ needed to be updated. I'll try typing up more ficlets/drabbles/one-shots/whatever you want to call these over the weekend.

Also...this was inspired by a picture and I haven't played Prototype 2 yet, so I'm sorry if I messed anything up.  
>Please don't kill me. (you'll see why I said that momentarily)<p>

* * *

><p>Altair wished he hadn't seen what he'd just witnessed. In fact he wished it hadn't happened at all.<p>

There was a bulky man towering over a beaten and battered Mercer, whom was bleeding profusely. He was down on his knees. His _knees_. Slowly healing scratches carved into the man's flesh as he stayed where he was, as if not bothered by what had happened, the fact that he was bruised, that he looked like a horrid mess. That his arms lie somewhere on the rooftop or on the ground.

Altair's throat tightened, his hands curling into fists while he stared down at the mess from a higher building.

He couldn't handle the sight. It was sickening and made his stomach twist. He couldn't explain it, what he was feeling at this point in time, but he knew that the man standing in front of Alex was just like the BLACKLIGHT. That he could _consume_, _devour_ and basically '_eat_' the New Yorker.

True, it wasn't like the virus had been kind to him when they'd first met. It wasn't like Altair had come to appreciate Alex's company and vice-versa.

It wasn't like he'd fallen in _love_with the man. That was simply outlandish, ridiculous - though not impossible.

The Syrian swallowed harshly, nails biting into leather and skin, body tensing as he watched - just _watched_- as Alex rose his head to regard the other man before him. Still acting as if he were not prey, rather the predator, that he wasn't going to let this squash down his pride and turn him into a sniveling coward. Like the villains on TV who pleaded for their lives when they realized they've truly lost everything.

It didn't surprise him when he caught sight of that cocky smirk, the one that would have him chuckle on the inside as his own would reveal itself.

But this time it was different.

Altair couldn't hear what the mortally wounded man had said, but he didn't pause a moment to reconsider his next action. The assassin had leapt down onto the damaged rooftop, shouting at the man to back away from Alex, to leave before he forced him to go. Although those were mostly empty threats. He knew he wouldn't be able to do any real harm to the infected man.

The golden eyed eagle was rather surprised when the man had distanced himself from Alex. A good few feet so that Altair could drop down to Mercer's level, gritting his teeth as the mirth of tears stung his eyes once he was able to see the whole extent of the damage done. A pool of blood had formed underneath the man, the man who told Altair that the world was corrupt. That it needed to be fixed. That _he_would be the one to do it, repair the horrific results of human actions.

He pushed the thought aside, raising his gaze to lock with _blue_. Dull cerulean eyes slowly slid shut, head lowering to then be held in tanned hands.

"Alex…"

The virus shut his eyes with a low cough as thumbs ran over his cold cheeks, cringing when one brushed over a wound.

"Alex." His tone was more urgent this time.

"…you're too loud." Alex replied, tone hoarse as he opened his eyes a bit, cocking his head slightly when he noticed that tears were brimming the corners of the assassin's eyes.

The Syrian's hands moved back, gripping Alex's hood with trembling hands. "It will be all right." He offered a strained smile, chest tightening more when a dribble of crimson slipped past his friend's lips. "Alex…everything will be all right."

His hands tightened on the hood.

"Yeah…right." Alex's eyes started to fall shut once more.

"Alex." Altair's hands shook more, his shoulders starting to do the same. "Alex…?"

His eyes were shut.

Altair couldn't stop the tears.

* * *

><p><strong>Assassination's note 2: <strong>Oh, look...and just when I thought I would never write another character death ever again...  
>If there's any OOCness, I'm sorry.<p> 


End file.
